Musings, diatribes and dialogues from one of Chicago's quirkiest musical psychologists. This and that and rat-a-tat-tat.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Pissing Off the Irish: Certainly No Potato Famine.

I had a paper to write today, due at 5:00 pm. I submitted it at 4:53 pm. A life-span development interview summary of an adolescent/young adult. Luckily, I had a highly intelligent, verbose, eloquent interview subject.

Yet I was highly distracted today. After I took Luke to school, I landed face-down back into bed until 11:00, er, somewhere around that time.

Delayed mostly because I watched this like 10 times, and my belly hurts from laughing, and then I had to share it, and then I wiped tears out of my eyes. Because this is just like the best thing, ever.

Only after I shared it with Pastor Dave did I realize that saying "Holy...anything" is probably breaking the 2nd Commandment of not taking the Lord's name in vain. Whoops!

I probably would've also submitted my paper sooner had I not been sidetracked AND hungry.

I don't think I've ever had mashed potatoes with onion in them, but yum, and verily, Sir Paul McCartney of The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, one does NOT use margarine in one's mashed potatoes. He's vegetarian, not vegan, so why not use some serious BUTTER. What the hell?

Why yes, I DO prefer a handbag that I can also eat. You're looking at me weirdly?

One thing in common among all my liberal friends in Oklahoma? They have wicked senses of humor. As, evidently, do their sarcastic Democratic State Senators, like Constance Johnson. She wanted to amend Republican-proposed Bill SB 1433, which would've given FEMALE EGGS the right to life in a "personhood" amendment, declaring them human beings. Realizing this was utter and complete nonsense, Sen. Johnson just wanted to have a little fun. (She withdrew her bill to amend the silly amendment, fully copping that she was being totally sarcastic.) And to think, here I sit, with all these freakin' unborn people inside my ovaries, with no hope of ever escaping and living their free lives, left to disintegrate...at least I *think* I still ovulate....I assume so...but no tubes, no uterus, no cervix...yep, y'all disintegrate. Sorry.

Shouldn't Guy Friend have more kids than he had if he's Irish and Catholic? I haven't talked to him in quite a while, but if he's a true Irish Catholic, shouldn't he have 12 kids instead of 3? Does that mean, since he didn't really do his part to fully propagate as per the Irish Catholic bylaws, he'll spend extra time in purgatory? If so, sorry, luv.

I got my ass whooped by a bunch of Irish Catholics from Ireland yesterday....IN GAELIC, no less. This Irish fella on Facebook, I don't even know how I know him, whether it's through the Lips or if he's in sobriety, whoever the fuck he is...posted this picture of Jesus talking to Mary, and said (in English) that if you said 10 novenas to the Virgin Mary, all of your prayers will be answered. Well, come on, if it was THAT goddamn simple, why didn't somebody like clue my Lutheran/Hindu/Buddhist ass in a long time ago? I know what a novena is. I know the Hail Mary by heart. Half of my family is Catholic. But I'll be dipped if I'm going to be outdone by a guy named Biff O'Rourke in a foreign language.

I simply explained why Lutherans don't pray to Mary to intercede to God on our behalf. So they yelled at me in Gaelic. Not knowing what they were crabbing about, I said, "The same goes for the saints too!!!" which riled them up more, then I told one (who answered me in English) that I had tattoos....in SANSKRIT, by which time they were assuredly choking themselves with their rosaries, because the body is God's temple and you shan't mar it with ink....and Holy Lord Almighty, were they p.o.'d. In Gaelic, anyway. The only Irish Catholic who loves me anymore is Kate.

And you want to piss off the Irish even MORE? Imply that their ham is British. This commercial was BANNED in Britain, *not* because it features substantial male and female nudity. Yes, nudity while eating ham. (It's the ham eating that's what's REALLY offensive, not the nudity!) But Richmond Ham asserts being Britain's whatever-best-natural-super-ham. But it's made in Ireland. My Welsh friend explained to me, not long ago, that the Irish/Irish get really testy when you try to lump them together with the Northern Irish. Of this, I was not aware. I'm from Illinois. It's a fairly big deal with them over there. To me, it's splitting hairs, like getting my knickers in a twist because when the shit comes down, half of my POLISH ancestors were actually from PRUSSIA With Love.

Here's the commercial, quick, hide your wee ones!

My final distracting moment was stumbling upon a video of George, Paul & Ringo having some tea in '94 in one of the "Anthology" extra features video clips. They were talking about the decline of Elvis Presley. Paul met Elvis once, Ringo couldn't remember how many times he'd seen or met him, but George regaled a story of meeting The King at Madison Square Garden towards the end of Elvis' life and seeing this god-like figure, looking actually really, sort of pathetic. George wished he could've encouraged Elvis to throw on a pair of jeans, get his guitar and do "That's Alright, Mama," instead (and he imitates him) of shit like "My Way" in a white jumpsuit with gold buckles all over it. George said Elvis "was great when he was great. A good 3 minutes, not a time-waster.

I best get crackin' on my 10 novenas that I pass statistics, for which Guy Friend urged me to pray the last time I heard from him.